


It's That Damn Phone

by Probs_not_perfect



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I Don't Even Know, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Probs_not_perfect/pseuds/Probs_not_perfect
Summary: Kageyama notices that Hinata is on his phone more than usual. Being distracted during practice is absolutely unacceptable, but that doesn't quite explain why Tobio is so upset about it. You can probably imagine what the real reason is. KageHina.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	It's That Damn Phone

**Author's Note:**

> Hinata: Texts Kenma a couple times  
> Me:

My daily walk to and from the vending machine is interrupted today by that little dumbass getting in the way. That in itself is nothing out of the ordinary, but he’s somehow found a way to piss me off even more than usual. Instead of asking me to set for him or blabbering on about something stupid, he’s just shuffling down the hall with his eyes glued to his phone screen. The fact that he still manages to bump into me without even trying confirms that being a clumsy moron is just part of his DNA. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any _more_ annoying, he keeps looking down and mumbles “Sorry Tanaka.”

I can’t help myself from latching onto his head and forcing him to look up. Seeing his expression falter when he finally recognizes me is comforting, but it’s not enough to quell my rage. Lucky for him, the nearest teacher pokes their head out into the hall, so I grip his skull ever so slightly and mutter through clenched teeth: “Watch where you’re going.” I shove him aside and head back to class, thoroughly frustrated and ready to grumble to myself through the next period. I don’t care if the people around me give me weird looks; it’s the best way to get my anger out. Maybe they’d understand if they were on a team with Hinata too.

* * *

It comes up again at practice. Coach is off on a tangent about how the rivalries used to be when his grandad was with the team. I could do without the history lesson, but usually Hinata is sitting wide eyed and drinking up every word. Daichi calls him out when it becomes clear that he’s not listening at all. “Hey, phone away buddy. That’s not like you.”

That damn idiot. Sure enough, he sheepishly grins and tucks his little digital companion into his pocket. Is he sick or something? Being overly passionate about everything volleyball is the root of his existence (which there is absolutely nothing wrong with). What could be so important that he’d ignore one of the triumphs of old Coach Ukai? Maybe he’s got footage of that Tiny Giant game he saw that lit the fire in his peanut sized brain. Still, you’d think he’d have the decency to wait until practice was done. Guess I’m giving him too much credit. I may not be fairing any better than him academically, but don’t let that fool you into thinking we’re the same intellectually.

He keeps his head in the game for the rest of practice, and I’m pleasantly surprised by his improvement when we take turns serving. So impressed, that I might have even paid him a compliment if he didn’t pull his phone out again the second practice was over. No request to stay for a little while longer, no begging me to keep setting for another hour (I would’ve considered it), just a stupid little smirk and _tap tap tap_ on his keypad. Is he writing a paper on there? No way he’d take the initiative to work on an assignment early, and if it was already late why would he bother at all? Guess it makes more sense he’s texting someone. I don’t use my phone for texting much outside of club updates and talking to my parents, but apparently Hinata has some booming social life that can barely wait until he’s not busy.

Go figure. Most people definitely like him more than they like me. Club members included.

“You alright?”

Sugawara waves his hand in front of my face, smiling casually. I don’t think my face could look like that all the time even if you paid me.

“Fine.”

* * *

We’re on the bus to a practice game the first time I ask him about it. Everyone’s talking pretty loudly, hyped up about the match. You’d probably say it’s stupid of me to sit by him if I think he’s so annoying, but there’s no one else to sit with and I guess he doesn’t mind me. We are partners after all. I know our special attacks will help us win this next game, and I’ve got a backup plan if they catch on quicker than anticipated. All he has to do is listen to what I say for once. Doesn’t bode well that he probably isn’t listening to anyone on the bus since he’s been glued to his phone since we left the parking lot. I feel weird about moving closer to peek at the screen, so I just confront him straight out.

“Who the hell are you texting?”

He blinks twice, but doesn’t look at me. “Kenma.”

What? That doesn’t make any sense. “You know we aren’t playing Nekoma today, right?”

Apparently, that was funny. He laughs and quickly types something. “Duh.”

_Duh?_ “So, then why are you talking to him? Have they played this team before?”

“Yeah, but I already asked him about it yesterday. Really good libero, like Takeda said.”

“That’s all?” I was hoping he’d actually have new info. “Then why are you still texting him?”

Finally, he slipped his eyes away from the screen to give me a sidelong glare. “Uh, because he’s my friend? I always text him.”

Wow. This whole time he’s been texting that setter with the odd dye job? I’ve never heard that kid utter more than a few sentences. He didn’t seem eager to answer any of my questions the first time I met him, anyway. How could they possibly talk over the phone for hours? I’ll bet it’s just Hinata blabbering on about nonsense while Kenma idly skims the paragraphs he’s sent and offers a one-word response. Why does Hinata need to text at all when he can just do that with me in real life? Just when I thought I had this dumbass all figured out, he becomes a text obsessed weirdo. So long as it doesn’t interfere with his skills, I guess I shouldn’t complain. Still, I can’t wrap my head around it, so I turn to the window and leer at my frustrated reflection for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Even though our team isn’t overflowing with members, I still think our club room is way too small. Changing into our uniforms would be a lot faster and more efficient if we weren’t bumping elbows the whole time. I almost think Hinata got lost or something when he’s not in his usual spot, but then Asahi almost faceplants tripping over something in the corner. Wouldn’t you know, little Shoyo is texting again and his phone charger is creating a major obstacle in the cramped space. He apologizes profusely to the ace who just shrugs it off with a smile and adjusts his weird shoelace headband, and Daichi asks him to be more mindful in the future. Hinata continues to sit on the floor half dressed, tapping away with that same stupid look I’m starting to despise.

Does no one else find this weird? Sure, he’s not the only one who pulls out their phone after practice, but they at least dress themselves and get out of the way first. Up until now I didn’t even know there were electrical outlets in here. With the amount of time he spends on his phone, he should just start carrying around a portable generator. Kenma can’t be enjoying the constant bombardment of attention, right? It’s only a matter of time before he reaches his limit and tells Hinata to leave him alone for a while. Then maybe he’ll put the phone down and rejoin us all in reality. Sure would make my life easier. I’ve been lingering around after practice for the past week wondering if he’ll ditch a text filled solo walk home to stay and work on new quick attacks. I could never get him to shut up about it before, but now it’s a toss up if he’ll even acknowledge my existence or not. And don’t say I should just ask him myself; I don’t actually _need_ him to practice. It’s just annoying.

Really, really annoying.

“Trying to finish dressing him with your mind?” Tsukishima gives an ugly smirk in my peripheral. “Or maybe you’re _undressing_ him.”

Four eyes may be a dick, but he’s right. I’ve been glaring at Hinata all week and it hasn’t forced him to care or made his phone spontaneously combust. I should just give it up for today and go home. Not bothering with a verbal comeback, I sidestep blondie and his minion and leave the club room behind.

* * *

Things get better the following week. Hinata only pulls his phone out every so often and rapid fires a quick message before stashing it away again. His less distracted and hyperactive demeanor returns, which I can’t say I missed exactly, but it’s better than a half-conscious short stack who can run into me in the hallway and mistake me for someone else. Unfortunately, what doesn’t seem to change is my level of frustration. Dumbass is doing everything right: engaging in practice, boisterously chatting with the team, asking me to stay late and grinning stupidly when I say yes. But every time he pulls out that ugly, insignificant little phone, even just to glance at the screen for a half-second, my jaw tightens and my fists clench. Sort of an overreaction, even for me.

Admitting my feelings about it isn’t easy, and it’s especially troubling because I don’t even know what they are. He’s doing everything he should be doing and I’m still not satisfied. How come I don’t get this upset when anyone else uses their phone? Everyone isn’t my partner, but I still care about the wellbeing of the whole team. Tanaka occasionally pulls his out to snap a picture (shirtless more often than not), Yamaguchi texts on occasion (probably because four eyes barely responds to him), and even coach is guilty of getting distracted every once in a while. None of that pisses me off the same way Hinata does when he even _thinks_ about pulling his phone out. Yes, I can tell when he’s thinking about it. He always makes some stupid face like he’s about to read some great secret when it’s probably just Kenma telling him to shut up or something.

OK, maybe it bothers me a little bit that I don’t have the slightest idea what they’re talking about. Hasn’t that guy admitted he’s not even super attached to volleyball? Do they even have anything else in common? Hinata talks so much in person that I can’t imagine he even has anything else to say over the phone. I’m not a nosey person by any means, but it almost feels rude for him to be texting in front of me without letting me in on the conversation. I know that sounds ridiculous, so I just keep it to myself and be thankful he isn’t tripping people with his carelessness anymore.

* * *

Coach takes us out on a jog around town to kick off practice since it’s so nice out, and I already know what’s coming. Victory was assuredly mine the last few times we’d gone out running, and Hinata’s going to come full force to knock me off my throne. Fat chance. We’re neck and neck for the majority of the race, but I’m holding out until the final stretch. That moron’s not smart enough to save any of his energy, and while he burns out embarrassingly, I’ll whiz past and defend my title once again. Guess I should know better than to underestimate him at this point. We both start speeding up at the same time and its only by the distance of his miraculous jumping talent that he beats me back to the gym entrance, our agreed upon finish line. Granted, this comes at the price of smashing his face into the door, but he still accepts victory with an obnoxious cheer as I slump against the wall in disgrace.

Once again, I’m rewarded for thinking about slapping him on the back and paying him a compliment with a whack in the face of my own. He immediately yanks that wretched phone out and breathlessly poses for a triumphant photo. Please don’t think me a to be the sensitive sort, but there was something about that little action that set me off. This was _our_ thing. Always trying to outdo the other at every turn, keeping a mental scoreboard of which one of us was doing the best, constantly working to become stronger. As individuals, but also together. Why does anyone else need to be included in that? Why does some random kid from another team need to know about your latest victory in a game that has nothing to do with them? I dug my fist into the dirt, unable to stay silent any longer.

“Had to let Kenma know you won, huh?”

He missed the anger in my voice. “Yep. He says I take everything too seriously, but I think my enthusiasm is rubbing off on him.”

“So it wasn’t enough that I knew? That doesn’t matter to you anymore?”

His innocent gaze searches me, probing my pores in confusion. “Kageyama?”

Idiot. Stupid, annoying, oblivious idiot. Of course he doesn’t understand. Why do I even bother?

“Forget it.” I pull myself up and storm past him into the gym. “We’re not staying after tonight, or any other night. Maybe your phone will set for you if you want the extra practice.”

Predictable as always, once I interfere with something he actually cares about, he comes chasing after me. “What are you talking about? Did I miss something?”

I scoff sharply. “Only everything that’s not your phone for the past two weeks.”

That must have stumped him for the moment. He says nothing and I retreat into the equipment closet to start setting up. The rest of the team will be back soon, and I don’t want to make a scene by arguing with him in front of everyone. He’ll probably just tell Kenma that _scary Kageyama_ is being a jerk again and make faces at me until practice is over. I don’t care. Why should I if he doesn’t.

Stupidly, I’d underestimated him a second time. He follows me into the room and stops me from pulling out the balls. “Why are you so mad at me? I know I got carried away with texting at first, but I was just excited that Kenma actually wanted to talk to me. I’ve never been on a real team before this, and so I’ve definitely never had a friendly rival from another team. But I’m focused now! I promise not to get distracted anymore.”

I shoved the cart forward, forcing him out of my way and wheeling it out of the closet. There wasn’t anything he could say that would calm me down. He didn’t get it. I didn’t really get it either, but I was upset and it was his fault. I wanted him to feel it too. “Whatever, dumbass. I bet you only stopped texting so much because Kenma threatened to block your number if you didn’t shut the hell up.”

He bolted out of the closet after me. “What’s your problem with Kenma?”

_Kenma?_ This isn’t about _Kenma._ That’s what he’s not understanding. How fucking dense can he be?!

“Nothing. You’re the one who can’t go five minutes without talking to him.”

“He’s my _friend._ ” He stood his ground, finally starting to look as angry as I felt. “Maybe you’d understand if you had any!”

That stung a little bit.

It stung a lot, actually.

Ok, it stung so much that I shoved him hard in the chest, making his whole body lurch back. It was all downhill from there. He tried doing the same to me, I laced my fingers around his skull, he started tugging at my shirt, and next thing you know we’re in a full-on fight just as the rest of the team finally shows up. They aren’t as surprised as you’d expect. Tanaka and Nishinoya pull us apart and for the first time in _years,_ I seriously consider leaving practice early. My body is still shaking and I’m so upset I can’t even understand exactly what coach says when he scolds us. I’m outside before I know it, taking a short walk to cool down, pretending that’s sweat dripping down my face and not the reminder that I just worked myself up over one singular message.

* * *

We keep our distance for the rest of the week. Coach puts us on opposite sides of the court during practice and nobody says a word. Standard procedure for whenever we’re fighting, I guess. Wish I could say this was like any other time. I’m still upset, and my eyes are still drawn to him whenever he pulls out his phone. It feels like a personal jab every time, like he’s only doing it just because it gets under my skin. I know it can’t be true, since he seemed completely numb to the fact that it bothered me at all. Him texting Kenma has nothing to do with me, right? Guess I’m more sensitive than I want to admit.

Sugawara and Daichi confront me in the hallway. I hide behind the straw of my little drink pouch as they approach cautiously, like I’m a frightened animal that might run away if they make a sudden move. How irritating. I’m not fragile! As if they’ve never told me to be more considerate of Hinata’s feelings before. We’ve had this talk a hundred times already. Why are they acting so weird about it?

Sugawara speaks first, radiating genuine concern as always. “Are you ok?”

_No._ “Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

_Not at all._ “Positive.”

Daichi looks discouraged. “Nothing you want to talk to us about?”

_Maybe._ “Not really.”

They don’t look convinced. Big surprise. I can’t even fool myself into thinking that everything’s fine, how was I going to trick them? The way Daichi crosses his arms and Sugawara leans against the wall, effectively trapping me in a corner, tells me I’m not going anywhere until I start being a little more honest. I know they just want to help resolve the situation, and believe me, I want nothing more than for things to go back to normal. Unfortunately, I don’t think things will ever be the same again, at least between Hinata and I. Saying as much out loud doubles the concern on the upperclassmen’s faces. There’s nothing they can do. This is something I have to deal with on my own.

* * *

Funny how a walk home in the rain is somehow lonelier than on a sunny day. A light sprinkle doesn’t bother me; it’s much tamer than the thunderstorm tearing up my insides. No matter how much it hurts, I have to let the whole thing go. Hinata and I can’t be partners anymore, and I’m doubtful we can be rivals either. I’d say we can’t be friends, but it seems like we might have never been that anyways. It’s for the good of the team that I distance myself from him, especially after my pitiful journey of self-discovery. I’ve finally identified that burning feeling in my gut every time Hinata looked away from me in favor of smiling down at his phone. Such an ugly emotion. Embarrassing. Pathetic.

_Jealousy._

It felt like a rejection every time; a rejection of feelings I didn’t know I was trying to drown with all my might. I still wanted to beat him. I still wanted to beat others with him. But believe it or not, there are things deeper than volleyball. I wanted him to like me and be impressed by me. I liked when he sought out my company to practice not only for a chance to flex my skills, but because it meant he wanted my companionship. Or I thought it did, before he started substituting our conversation with one that excluded me. He’d never be that heartless to someone on purpose, but that was even worse. It means he never saw our relationship like I did, even if I wasn’t conscious of it right away. I was just a teammate. Just the King of the Court who he wanted to beat someday. That’s it. Nothing else.

Nothing.

* * *

Our next practice game was with Nekoma as fate would have it, if you believe in that kind of thing. Seeing Hinata run up to Kenma and greet him with a hug hurt like a volleyball crashing into the back of my head. Except this time, I should have seen it coming. Instead of looking away from the harmless gesture silently, I huffed like an overgrown child and glared at the floor so hard my eyes began to ache. Four eyes whispered something to his lackey and they stifled laugher, but I was too busy stewing in my own sizzling angst to care what anyone else had to say. I stole glances at the pair talking animatedly while we warmed up, being thankful that at least he could find happiness without me.

In between the sets, dye job actually came up to me sporting his usual indifferent expression. “Uh, this is kind of awkward…”

No kidding. I didn’t want to make small talk and pretend I wasn’t bitter about the whole situation. Good sportsmanship dictates I should politely congratulate him, but I don’t know how to say that in this context. I said all I could think of.

“Please, be good to him.”

Kenma’s facial muscles must have audibly cracked with the look he gave me then. I’d never seen him give any type of look at all. “Huh? Be good to who?”

_Who? Who else?!_ “Hinata.”

He thankfully settled back into his neutral face of unconcern. “Why don’t you try taking your own advice? And soon. I don’t mind texting him, but he’s really bumming me out with all his boohooing about you never speaking to him again.”

I was beyond confused. They’d been texting about our fight? Should I be angry or mortified? “He told you about that?”

“Yes.” Kenma idly rolled his eyes. “You’re all he talks about 50% of the time, but it’s been more like 99% since you guys had your little spat. Please make up with him already.”

Dumbfounded couldn’t begin to describe my current mental state. I get myself all worked up about the two of them texting and blow up for no good reason, wallow in regret that I waited too long and hid my feelings so deep that I missed my chance to act on them, only for the guy I assume took my spot to come marching up to me and request that I make nice with Hinata so he wouldn’t have to hear about it anymore. I know I’ve never been a socially savvy guy, but I didn’t think I was inept enough to get myself in a situation like this.

“So” I try to piece together my new cognition of events. “You and Hinata aren’t…”

“Aren’t what?”

“Uh.” I’ll take that as a no. “Never mind.”

“Seriously, though.” His lazy gaze drifts across to our side of the court. “Do it today, if you can. He’s looked over here like fifteen times.”

Feeling brave, I turn around and follow his gaze, finding Hinata looking alarmed and pretending to check the clock on the gym wall. I feel a headache coming on. Something tells me there are at least two dumbasses in this room and one of us has caused a lot of trouble over nothing. All that remains to be seen is if he can fix it without making any more mistakes. Wish him luck.

* * *

On the bus ride to Nekoma, I’d sat up front with Asahi (who fidgeted nervously at my obvious discomfort) and Hinata sat in the back with Nishinoya. As we get ready to leave, I make sure to board the bus right behind him and sit beside him in our usual spot. He looks shocked, but quickly averts his eyes as if he might scare me away with his notice. I’m getting real sick of being treated like a fragile baby animal. Guess I better start acting like a tough beast who doesn’t get his feelings hurt over nothing.

I know I’ll need the soothing rhythm of the bus moving to back me up, so I wait for everyone else to climb aboard. It’s probably the longest few minutes of my life. Finally, we ease onto the road and I take a deep breath to break the prickling silence.

“Hey.” I bite it out harshly, failing at sounding like I’m not teaming with white hot emotion.

“Uh, hi.”

“Sorry I got upset about you texting. It was stupid of me.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, and I felt like I could see the tension flowing out of his body. “I’m sorry I said you didn’t have any friends.”

I chuckled dryly. I’d forgotten he’d said that at all. My shrug was stiff and unconvincing. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.” He shook his head with conviction. “Everyone on the team is your friend. Even four eyes.”

I was reminded of my old team, and how I’d driven them away with my horrible attitude. Those weren’t my friends at any point in time. I didn’t see how this one was any different. “If it weren’t for volleyball, I’d be all alone.”

“Nope.” Hinata smiled, finally looking like himself. “Even if we woke up tomorrow and volleyball didn’t exist anymore, I would still want to hang out with you.”

That dumbass. How could he be so sure of something like that? Did he really feel that way all along? I turned to face him on instinct, not meaning to show him my blatant and unhindered reaction to the sentiment. I’m sure I looked wholly pathetic.

“I mean,” He nervously scratched the back of his head. “Maybe we could join basketball or baseball if that happened.”

I looked away, focusing on the seat in front of me so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. “Yeah.”

We sat in silence for only a moment or two, staring in opposite directions until he spoke up again.

“Kageyama?”

I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. “What?”

Something nudged against my sweating palm. “Um, will you set for me when we get back?”

I accepted the warm hand with mine. Didn’t think I deserved it at this point, but if he’s willing to have me, then maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself.

“Yeah, I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of sucks, but I don't hate it. Thanks for reading!


End file.
